


Sunrise

by madaliz



Series: Shadow & Red Sun Series (KnB Superhero AU) [4]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:01:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4309710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madaliz/pseuds/madaliz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Red Sun there was Tigris.</p><p>(Kagami thinks about the past, even when he doesn't want to.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is not fully edited, will do it when I'm available again

Kagami dreams of motorbikes, catsuits, and kevlar masks; of diving from rooftops and scaling walls,  the crunch of a jaw against his fist, the red of blood underneath his fingertips. He dreams of sleepless nights and teasing voices in his ear. Of the twinkle in Alex's eyes, the sureness of her strikes – the power, the precision, the superhuman grace. He dreams of Tatsuya, and his once endless smiles. Of the warm body he'd curled into once the night was gone and the sun rose to light up the sky.

He dreams of comfort, warmth and trust. He dreams of better times, happier times. He dreams of the end. The smell of human flesh burning against his own skin, the sickening crunch of bone, and blood, blood on his hands and in his veins pulsing furiously through him till it washed away his very being. Until there was nothing left but the monster inside him.

Kagami dreams. He dreams of things he would rather forget and would rather not miss. He dreams of L.A.. The darkness of the nights, the smell of rotting milk and urine. The sprawling labyrinth that was its streets, the grime of its underbelly, the privacy of its rooftops. He dreams of endless stream of people. The beach. The feel of sand between his toes and the stickiness of saltwater on his skin. He dreams of basketball under the scorching heat of the sun. Of simpler times, before... Before.

He would rather not talk about it.

Tokyo is an entirely different breed of city from what he's used to. It's familiar enough in the way most big cities are generally alike, but it's foreign enough that he feels displaced even without a language barrier. In a way it's foreignness is almost welcome. A good distraction (makes it easier to forget).

Tokyo is a city of rules, and almost eerily well organized groups of metas. There were meta detective agencies, a meta division in the police force, intelligence sectors, security – nearly every registered meta was in service to some higher power. There was little freedom in using their powers, but no one seemed to mind.

Kagami doesn't mind either, not really. Although he isn't sure how to feel about having less work. He's gone from having to safeguard an entire city from anything and everything, to not being allowed to punch a non-meta without getting arrested (apparently he needs a license to do that legally). It was a big change, one he still needed to adjust to.

And it made him feel restless, as if he weren't being as useful as he could be. On the other hand it was a relaxing change of pace. Peaceful.

Kuroko is convinced that the peace is a lie. But then, he's Kuroko. If these months have taught Kagami anything about him it's that he's stubborn to a fault and is convinced of very many things. Maybe Kagami has been seeing things his way lately, but that's neither here nor there. He still doesn't know if the peace is a sham for sure. (How does peace become fake anyway? That's what he wants to know.)

What he is ready to agree to however, it that The Miracles, to whom this peace may be attributed, are probably assholes. The word “probably” being a gross understatement if the last thirty seconds, with this four-eyes who's writing him a freaking parking ticket, is anything to go by.

“I'm pretty sure I'm parked in the right place.” Kagami had said, upon exiting Maji Burger and seeing a policeman standing by his motorbike.

“Good afternoon Midorima-kun.” Kuroko had said, after seeing the same policeman.

“Who now?” Kagami had asked, just as the policeman said “I should have known.”

And this is how he learns that the ass who's about to give him a ticket (for parking his motorbike in a place where he's allowed to park his motorbike (goddamit)) was a former member of the Miracles.

Definitely no “probably” about it.

“I wasn't aware that I made a habit of parking illegally Midorima-kun.” Kuroko retorts plainly against Midorima's insults, express and implied “And besides this isn't my motorcycle.”

“But you allowed such a thing to happen.” Midorima glares at him sharply “You were always too lenient on civilians.”

“And you were always too tough on them and everyone else.” says Kuroko.

Kagami feels distinctly ignored. “I'm pretty sure I didn't park illegally though.” he interjects.

Kuroko turns to him “I'm sorry Kagami-kun, you did.” and then back to Midorima “He's an American, he doesn't know better.”

“He's speaking Japanese.”

“Kagami-kun, would you please speak English?”

Kagami just rolls his eyes.

Midorima humphs “Even if he were American, our laws apply to all those who sojourn our territory, and ignorance of the law has never excused anyone from compliance therewith.” *

Kuroko frowns “You truly are too hard on civilians.”

“Enough.” Midorima rips the ticket from his pad and hands it to Kagami, all the while not tearing his eyes away from Kuroko “We have never seen eye to eye, this discussion is a waste of time. Good day.”

Without giving them a chance to rebut, he opens a shining green portal (or what looks like one) effortlessly and disappears through it. In his wake, strangely, is the distinct scent of mint.** Kagami sneezes.

“Teleporter,” explains Kuroko “among a number of other things.”

“Yeah I guessed.” Kagami grunts “Are all of them like that?”

“Worse.”

“Well,” he snorts “I'm glad I agreed to help you kick their asses.”

One side of Kuroko's mouth twitches into a tiny smile “That's not what we're doing exactly.”

“Might as well be.”

.  
.  
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His phone rings in the middle of the night, shaking him awake. It's probably a call from L.A. considering the time. If he's lucky, it's his dad. If he's not, it's Alex.

He lets it ring.

The ringing stops after a minute, then comes back after a couple of seconds, then stops again after another minute, only to ring again, and again, and again. Either there was an emergency, or the caller is a persistent bastard.

Reluctantly Kagami peers at the screen through his sleep hazed eyes. “Alex” it says, and in the background, a poorly taken selfie featuring Alex pressing his head tightly onto her chest.

 _“Persistent bastard it is then.”_ he thinks, before turning his cellphone off.

.  
.  
.  
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.  
.

He was on patrol when it happened.

There was a shooting at a bank. He forgets which one. It was routine stuff. Amateur robbers in black who thought they had what it took to get away with it (those were always, Kagami knew, the incompetent types). He disarmed them, knocked them unconscious, but then as he moved for the last one the bastard took a shot. The aim was extraordinarily bad, but if Kagami didn't do something the bullet would have hit a civilian – so he'd put himself in the bullet's path.

And it melted against his skin.

He remembers the sensation of metal turning into goo. He remembers the panic that set in immediately after. He hid his fear as best he could, quickly rendering the last robber unconscious and tying up their bodies in a secure knot.  He remembers vaguely, hearing people starting to thank him. He'll never know for sure, because as soon as he finished he ran as far as his legs would take him. As far away from the place where it happened, as if distance would take back what had just transpired.

He had clawed his chest, pointer finger slipping into the hole the bullet made on his kevlar suit, he remembers how the burnt material smelled. He had known, even then, than he shouldn't have been able to smell it so clearly.

He'd tumbled into one of Alex's safe houses, and only then did he hear the wild beeping of his comm. He pressed his hand onto the small device in his ear.

“Y-Yeah?” his voice had been shaky. He remembers it clearly, the terror wracking through his body. The denial.

“Tigris you alright? Need back up?” that was the first time that Alex's voice caused him more worry than relief.

“I'm alright A.” he'd said, willing his voice to steady “Took care of it.”

He doesn't remember what Alex said after that. His heartbeat rang too loud in his ears for anything to register aside from the pungent smell of burning kevlar. The edges of his vision had blurred and everything slowly faded into red. The last thing he remembers seeing, was Tatsuya crawling in through a window.

When he opens his eyes again, he's on a hospital bed at a meta facility.

He remembers the look on his dad’s face -- unreadable -- neither angry nor happy with him. He broke the news with a scary calm voice that somehow just made it all worse. (But then, Kagami’s not sure he would have preferred anger or gentleness.)

Dormant meta genes they missed when he was born reactivated. Not unprecedented, the doctors had said, but extremely rare especially when it resulted in an A ranking. They spoke as if they were praising him at first, but quickly lost their enthusiasm at the face of his father’s indifference and his own obvious mourning.

His life as Tigris was over. He was just Taiga again, or Red Sun if you followed the register. His dad had chosen the name, when he had refused to chose one for himself. He never asked why he named him 'Red Sun'. It didn’t matter to him. At the time it didn’t look like it mattered to his dad either.

All he wanted to do was to get out of the city. The country.

Anywhere that reminded him of the life he could no longer have.

Anywhere but L.A.

_“Anywhere but here.”_

.  
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.  
.

“Alright Kagami-kun,” President Aida tapped her clipboard thoughtfully, for once she didn’t look annoyed with his test results “it looks like you’re progressing quite nicely. Your control of both your speed and strength has improved by thirty percent.”

“And the uhm, the heat thing?” they had to come up with a better name for that.

“Better by five percent,” Kagami frowns “oh don’t look like that, that’s better than nothing. It’s only natural that this is the ability you’d have trouble controlling too. Both speed and strength are extensions of capabilities of regular humans, your history with vigilantism--” he flinches, President Aida doesn’t seem to notice and carries on “--made you exceptionally fast and strong for someone without active meta genes. The adjustment, now that your meta genes are active, is smoother because of your skillset prior to their activation.”

She clears her throat “The ‘heat thing’, on the other hand. Well, that’s not something any regular human can do. And since your meta genes were previously inactive your body’s still transforming itself to accommodate it. In a nutshell, sparing you from a complex metahuman genetics lecture I know you’ll find boring, that’s what’s happening to you.”

“What about my skin then?” he flexes his hand “It feels different.”

“Ah right,” she waves a hand “nothing to worry about. Great news for you really, you’re becoming increasingly invulnerable. We’ll have to start running tests about what that skin of yours is weak to.” she taps her lower lip with her pen, grin slowly widening.

Kagami huffs. These procedures were necessary, but he never knew how to feel about how much President Aida enjoyed them.

“So same time next week then, right boss?”

“Yup, yup,” she pats his shoulder, absentmindedly “now go to training room B, I think Hyuuga wants to run some drills with you and Kuroko, I’ll be there in a few.”

Kagami hops off the bed “Are we going to be fighting those things we accidentally killed last month? Again?”

“As long as you all keep accidentally killing them in simulators, yes, you’re going to keep fighting them. Now shoo, I have to file your results.”

Shaking his head fondly, Kagami leaves her to it.

.  
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His father brings it up after he’s discharged, on the car ride home.  
“There’s a private corporation with an excellent training program in Tokyo, they seem to want you because of your history as a vigilante and not despite it. I think we can both agree that that’s encouraging.”

It was, frankly, the most encouraging thing Kagami’s heard since he joined the ranks of registered supers. The side effects of suppressants were torture-- the headaches especially-- but based on everything he knows about L.A. meta facilities from his time as Tigris, head splitting headaches are the better deal.

“The jet can be ready as soon as tomorrow,” for the first time since this whole ordeal started his father looks him in the eye  “I know you hate using our wealth, but we both know a commercial airline isn’t an option for you right now.”

He does hate it. He’s always felt like a fucking contradiction because of it. He hates the jet, unnecessary and costly, convenient as it may be. He hates the limo they’re riding in, too large, too stiff, too pretentious. He hates their house, far too large for two people, far too extravagant to feel lived in. He misses the simple life he had with his parents in Japan back when his mother was still alive. Even though he barely remembers it. Even though it no longer feels real.

He swallows, adam’s apple visibly bobbing, “Will they have to sedate me?”

“It remains to be seen. I would rather, of course, that they won’t.”

Kagami nods “Tomorrow’s good. Anytime really.” his rubs his hands on his knees “Will you uhm, will you be coming with me?”

“I’ll try.” which of course meant, that he wouldn’t be coming with him. As usual.

“Dad,” he clears his throat “look I-- for whatever it’s worth at this point-- I’m really sorry.”

All he gets in reply at first is a piercing look, as if he were being judged on his sincerity. Then after a tense moment, his father lets out a huff.

“Your mother,” he starts slowly “was a metahuman.”

“She--” Kagami gapes “What?”

“I meant to tell you, when it seemed like you were ready to talk about her again.” he sighs “But maybe I was really waiting for myself.”

Kagami didn’t know what to say. If there was anything _ **to**_ say. “Dad…”

“Maybe if you’d known, it would have better prepared you for something like this happening. But then again, maybe it wouldn’t have.” he shakes his head “But that’s moot point now, the exposure of your secret identity is more of a concern. Vigilantism is illegal for non-metas. But I’ve spoken to Ms. Garcia about the matter, I believe things will work themselves out.”

“Is she in trouble?” Kagami furrows his eyebrows “I was the one who pushed her to train me dad, not--”

“She’s an A level meta, and her other pupil is apparently a C level meta. There are no problems in so far as they are concerned, the problem is you.”

Kagami bites his lip. He hadn’t know about Tatsuya. Not until… the incident. He’d always thought he was just… that they were alike. In the end, he guesses, he wasn’t really wrong.

“I’m telling you this because I want you to understand that what saved you is a legal technicality. The fact that you’ve been recognized as a meta has retroactive effect, and the law doesn’t distinguish between metahumans with dormant genes and active genes. That, and our good lawyers, are the only thing that save you.”

“Is this your way of telling me not to do something like that again?”

“This is my way of telling you that you should be ready next time for the consequences of your actions. Especially since you have abilities beyond a regular human’s now.”

“You don’t have to worry about that dad.” he leans against the car window “I’ll… take the jet to Tokyo tomorrow.”

His father puts a hand on his shoulder -- gentle, comforting. Kagami lets it stay there, and closes his eyes.

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“Oi Kagami!” Hyuuga shouts, voice echoing in the training room “you’ll need to take off that necklace for training, you can’t wear accessories when you’re on duty. Training counts.”

Kagami frowns at him but obediently slips off the chain on his neck. He fiddles with the ring on it for a moment, before putting it in his pocket.

“So, what are we doing today senpai?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Midorima's spiel in drawn from principles of my own country's laws, which was in turn drawn from American and Spanish law, which leads me to believe that it's probably applicable in all jurisdictions, and if it's not, let's just pretend that it is
> 
> ** Remember the KnB Perfume series, of course you do (if you don't, then here: http://violinic.tumblr.com/post/37381699130/nescre-perfume-of-the-basketball-which-kuroko )


End file.
